


Forget Me Nots

by thunder_rolled_a_six



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Embroidery, Hurt/Comfort, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23194216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunder_rolled_a_six/pseuds/thunder_rolled_a_six
Summary: After they rescue Grand from the Advent safehouse Echo repeats a tear in his jacket.
Relationships: Grand Magnificent/Echo Reverie
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Forget Me Nots

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after that episode came out but never put it up here. And now Arp's made WONDERFUL art for it! Go look! https://twitter.com/fero_feritas/status/1240109354621288450?s=19

Echo had never been very good at embroidery. It had been a long and arduous struggle to make their and Ballad’s jacket (it was a toss up who it belonged to anymore). Echo had also never been very good at giving up. They had practiced on scraps and pricked their fingers till they bled and eventually made something beautiful. 

The jacket has seen better days. The blood has mostly been washed out but gashes remain from bitter wounds that Echo still feel if they move too quickly or too far in the wrong direction. Ballad is lying still under a more benevolent knife in a medbay somewhere and Echo has tracked down a sewing kit with shaking hands and set their mind on repairing what they can. 

It's been awhile but they remember how to thread the needle, what stitches to use. The small repetitive act is peaceful but requires enough concentration that they don't have to think about… anything. Breathe in, poke a hole, breathe out, pull the thread through. It would have continued being a much needed calm and quiet moment if Grand had not chosen to walk through the door and drop down onto the couch they're sitting on as if that's still a thing he can do, as if he owns the place, as if he never left. 

He looks tired. He looks like he's trying to play it cool but he keeps glancing over at Echo, always and forever seeking approval from someone. The jacket he’s wearing is ridiculous, mostly jacket but sort of line and shape and idea and it hurts Echo’s head a little to look at it. But… wait, right there on the sleeve is a hole. Echo's never been very good at denying impulse decisions either. They tie off the thread they were working with on the Reverie jacket and set it to the side before scooting closer to Grand, sewing kit in tow. He looks at them, startled. 

“Uh. Echo, what-”

“Hold still. Are you wearing sleeves under there? I don't wanna sew the jacket to them.”

“My arms are under there! I don't want you to sew the jacket to me!” 

Echo doesn't dignify that with a response, starting instead to thread the needle with a pale but vibrant blue. They put in the first stitch, pulling the fabric away from his skin to avoid any harm but imagining just stabbing him for the pure satisfaction of it. Grand sits statue-still, continuing his nervous half glances. Echo sighs. 

“You're being too quiet. It's weird.” 

Grand looks at them full on this time.“Talking hasn't… seemed to endear me to anyone, lately.” 

Echo hums in vague agreement as they continue to work. The stitches seem to be breaking whatever tech that makes the jacket ethereal, turning it to dull, normal fabric for a good inch around the embroidery. Echo feels a mean satisfaction. “Yeah, you've been an idiot, haven't you?”

“Yes.”

The affirmative startles Echo into looking up. Grand is staring at them, still so tired but not trying to look cool anymore. “I've been an idiot, Echo. I'm still-” he half chuckles, half sighs, “I'm probably still an idiot. But I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry we never talked. I'm sorry you had to fucking… fight your brother for me and I don't think that one's really my fault but it feels like it is somehow and I'm sorry for Patina and I'm sorry f-” 

“Okay! Okay!” Echo raises their hands in surrender, needle left to dangle from the jacket. “I get it. I don't… Grand, I  _ don't _ forgive you. You left us. You left me. I lost both you and Ballad to fucking  _ Advent _ and that's- you  _ fucked up!” _

Grand looks like they  _ did _ stab him with the needle, but that it's what he expected, and has resigned himself to a life of painfully embroidered skin. 

“But I missed you, you- ass! I missed you and I'm so relieved you're back and I don't want you to leave again. Please don't. Leave again. I don't forgive you but please stay so I can later.” 

Grand's eyes are wide, and he hesitates before very awkwardly and very gently resting a hand on their knee. “I have- I have to leave for a little, Echo. I have to keep fighting them and I can do that best with them. But. I'll be back. If you'll still have me.” 

Echo nods, energy to find words entirely exhausted, and picks up the needle again. It's quiet as they finish their work, switching eventually to yellow, to white, to black. The silence is more comfortable than they could have imagined, Grand's hand still warm on their knee and his breathing a steady confirmation that they are not alone. Finally, they finish. A little blue flower to patch the hole, the jacket gone dead just around it. Grand looks at it with emotions that are hard to place, but Echo thinks happiness might be in there. 

“Its beautiful. Thank you. A Forget Me Not… I feel like this is a bit of a call out but I won't. I won't forget you, Echo.”

Echo, for the first time in awhile, smiles.


End file.
